


Loopholes

by tentayano (orphan_account)



Series: testing the waters [1]
Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, why do i like writing about kids being fucked up emotionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 06:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17823956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tentayano
Summary: Ran doesn’t know when they will break: the smiles on her face, that is.





	Loopholes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by stellarite: masks.
> 
> A few notable inspirations on this, really:
> 
> 1\. Smile by Werepirechick which can be read here: archiveofourown.org/works/9794135  
> 2\. That one post on Twitter. I forgot who wrote this but OP said that Kasumi and Ran have the same level of emotional maturity which,,,yeah I can agree with that

Ran doesn’t know when they will break: the smiles on her face, that is.

 

It has occurred to her ever since God knows when that there’s always something distinct about Kasumi’s smiles--the way each of them presents itself, never failing to make itself the centre of the attention, even when the sun behind her is shining a bit too brightly or the fog amidst the sudden rain makes it too unbearable for Ran to even remind herself that the brown-haired vocalist is _still_ talking, _still_ trying to drown her away from the insomniac nights and dreamless, too-much-dark-that-she-isn’t-even-sure-if-it’s-the-normal-Haneoka-dark-at-night-anymore sleeps.

 

And even in those unbearable, hard-pouring rainy afternoons-turning-into-nights, Kasumi’s smile somehow always finds its way to break through that, makes itself so bright amidst the fog that even Ran might have thought that the sun made its way into the rain, just across her on the rough, asphalt road.

 

She takes notice of this smile, the kind that Kasumi would wear whenever there’s an unresolved issue during band collaboration meetings or even when she sees the crease in Ran’s brow, the tension forcibly placed into her shoulders, making them stiffer than the usual, almost like concrete. It’s different from the usual one where her lips usually form into a wobbly semicircle with her one and only dimple making its presence right at the lower part of her cheek and the curve slightly lax.

 

This one is much stiffer, so much of it that her lips could form a perfect lower semicircle if she dares to push on it a bit more. The tips of the curve are on level with each other and it’s too perfect that even Ran would find this more odd than Kokoro’s usual over-the-top cheery disposition. Her cheeks are all pushed up so much that her eyes could no longer make room for itself, hence why it is probably out of instinct that Kasumi has it almost closed, leaving nothing for the taller of the two to see but a slight part of purples and violets and all the stars that Ran could never count. Even her eyebrows seem more uptight. They knit too close. Too close that even with all the fog and rain and mist, Ran could make out the apparent, subtle fold in between them, along with all the others that surround her eyes or even the ones that hide all the slightly visible eyebags she had gained from who knows where and when.

 

Most of her smiles have been like this these days: too many folds in the wrong places, too much stress and tension in places extremely delicate, too much perfection and precision that it takes Ran a bit too long, with all the amount of brightness it holds, to notice that something is wrong.

 

It becomes apparent, a bit later, with the slight, subtle shakes on her lips. With the way her eyes find itself in a pool of confusion, not knowing whether to close themselves completely or open and risk losing those straining folds, causing them to twitch too much that Ran knows the amount of pain that will have to surface later on if she keeps this up. With how the curve is all the more _ready_ to drop and fall, like a beautiful, newly painted, colourful mural being washed away and drained by the rain.

 

Ran has seen more smiles than this, some of them worse than the other if she were to pile them up and compare each from the next before arranging them in a scale. It changes from one to the other too quickly, like how lightning strikes in the atmosphere. It’s there for a bit, relishing the moment the sun is up. And then the rain comes all of a sudden and it immediately shifts, too fast. Too fast that Ran just...doesn’t know how she does it. How she can change the forms of her curves and the pull of her cheeks without even thinking about it, like how it has become second nature to her next to breathing. How she can transform the mood and maintain being human while keeping the brightness of her smiles consistent, how she can wear her masks like this despite everything that’s going on right now. How, how—

 

How she can keep this up and force her curves, twist them into a sick, disfigured yet beautiful masterpiece, holding it, keeping it like she’s stuck in a freeze frame, like she’s a mime and she’s _obliged_ to do this. But for what? Why does she feel so obliged and responsible to maintain something that looks all much the same and yet _so_ different, if only to keep her lights on? If only to show everyone and everything that she is _fine_ and they’ll be _fine_ and that is everything is _fine_ because they’ll find a way out of this, because her smile has become a mascot of hope and beacon and she knows that without its light, the people around her will lose hope as well so really, fuck her feelings and fuck everything else if either or both will make the people around her lose that _one_ single drop of hope—

 

“Ran?”

 

The world is still for a bit, unmoving, silent that even the rain doesn’t register her ears.

 

And then Ran finds herself back to where they are now: their heads and faces and uniforms dripping wet with the rain still pouring over their heads, the grey sky over their heads, the soles of her muddy shoes pushing all of her weight against the rough asphalt road, and the neighborhood leading to her house. To Ran’s house. And Kasumi, who’s in front of her, smile _nearly_ dropping at the realisation that Ran has zoned out. Kasumi, who could have taken the other train back there but still came with Ran because she’s afraid. Afraid of what her own messed up mind might do to herself. Afraid that Ran might feel even lonely walking home, letting the toxic thoughts in her mind overcome her every stance. Afraid that Ran’s heart might go black and ugly and dark and empty again just like the past few months when Kasumi was still new to the revelation that her own mind is sick. Twisted. Just as disfigured as Kasumi’s horrible, nauseating smiles.

 

And Ran doesn’t help but feel guilty. A lot more than she expects from herself. At least Ran can act like herself and still feel loved. At least Ran can let out all that angst in so many different places and still feel _fine_. Still feel like she’s herself because she has actual friends and a girlfriend to even care about saving her own ass every single time.

 

Kasumi has none of those. She must have known how much her smile means to so many people even before, how much power it holds, and how many miracles it can make within a minute. She knows so much that she’s willing to fake every single one of them. So much that she’s willing to risk the strain on her lips, the folds on her face, the twitches in her eyes or the headache that will come from knitting her brows a bit too much if _only_ to give hope that she could not use for herself. If only to give peace and comfort that could have been used to ease the waging uproar and war going on in her mind. If only to give happiness to those who need it even if she’s known all along that she needs it _more_ than anyone else.

 

And Ran, despite all her outlets, is still a lone, fucked up teenager with a laid-out destiny for her. Ran, despite her friends and girlfriend by her side, still feels lonely, even if she surrounds herself with everyone squeezed tightly in the Tokyo Dome. And Ran, despite the stability she has gained over the last few months, still can’t understand emotions that aren’t from her own range. Still doesn’t know how to cure someone who can pass of as a stepford smiler yet isn’t in some way or another. Still doesn’t know how to fight off the demon inside Kasumi, the one that Ran has yet to see because of her masks. Because of the smiles that she has painted on her face for so long. Still doesn’t know how to fix her own girlfriend. Still doesn’t know how to _save_ her.

 

It feels unfair to Ran. Kasumi has done a pretty good job with all the saving stuff, despite the fuck-ups she had made in between all those. It feels unfair because Kasumi is doing all the work and Ran doesn’t. And it all stems from the fact that Ran doesn’t _know how to fix her_. Doesn’t know how to stop her tears or get her to break the smiles so she can face and defeat the demon inside her.

 

Ran doesn’t even know _how_ to fight it off in the first place. Nor does she know where to start in peeling off her masks and unwrapping her folds and removing the straining feeling within her face muscles.

 

She’s Ran. A fucked up teenager with her own issues. And Kasumi is Kasumi with her own issues that she'd rather keep to herself, it seems.

 

So Ran does the only thing that she knows and feels is safe and right.

 

She slides her hand onto Kasumi’s, her pale, bandaged, slender fingers gripping onto her palm, as if protecting her, allowing herself to share her own warmth with Kasumi’s cold, wet, and clammy hands.

 

Kasumi’s face falls, staring at the hand that is wrapped around hers with wide eyes.

 

Ran could only mentally sigh, proud at least for the victory she has achieved. It would take weeks, months, and even years for her to break each and every smile. To reach for the darkest and deepest core of Kasumi and expose the demon sucking the life out of her, making her own soul shrivel at its slightest touch.To remind Kasumi that she doesn’t _need_ to be happy all the time. To tell Kasumi time and again that her existence is more than enough to give hope to others. To give Ran hope that for once, she’s actually doing something right.

 

Ran blinks once and sees a smile from Kasumi. Except it isn’t one that is full of straining and stiffness and folds being made in the most delicate and wrong places she could mark.

 

Her smile is wobbly with the curve more than lax from before and the dimple making itself present on her cheek. Her brows set themselves into place. Ran could see the purples and violets and all the stars right in her eyes shining brightly, even more than all the usual times she’s pulled off this kind of smile.

 

It’s the least worst smile in Ran’s scale. The kind that tells her that Kasumi actually _means_ it. That despite the fog and mist and awfully bad weather, Kasumi is actually happy and glad that she’s her. Or whatever reason only makes sense to no one else than Kasumi.

 

And to Ran, that alone is enough for her to feel something light yet heavy yet _right_ in her chest.


End file.
